Anniversary
by Desbelleschoses
Summary: "Mustang heaved a large sigh, shaking his head. "'Unfortunately, a rebellion is not the only kind of war.'" Warning: Deals with PTSD. Oneshot, possible Twoshot. Slight Royai. FueryPOV.


**A/N: Thank you for all of the kind words I received from "Entrepreneurship." It is the first creative piece that I have written in over four years, and the encouragement is absolutely heartwarming.**

 **I want to add a bit of a warning to this story. Although I don't go into much detail in this particular fiction, this piece does concern itself with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Most assume that PTSD is a result of war or another similar circumstance, but some sufferers experience PTSD as a result of systematic trauma, neglect, or instability. I would like to tell any sufferers that may read this story that, no matter the cause, no form of any mental illness is less important than another due to origin or severity. To friends and family members of sufferers who may read this story, ask what you can do to help your loved one. Everyone is different and no two people need exactly the same thing. Needing space is just as valid a response as needing physical contact. Know that all of you are loved.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own, in this or any possible, subsequent chapter of this piece, the characters of Fullmetal Alchemist. The original plot of this story is my own.**

It was Master Sergeant Kain Fuery's third year with Colonel Mustang before he was able to notice the subtle break in the pattern of the group's day-to-day life. No-one spoke of it when it happened, and he wondered if the others even noticed it at all. He had always been told that he was too sensitive, but it was this sensitivity to others that caused him to gradually realize that, on one specific day of every year, something wasn't entirely right.

The first time he noticed anything was early one mid-December morning. Snow blanketed the courtyard of Central Command, as yet untouched by any human activity. As the holiday season permitted, those who had family out of town were allowed to take their leave early to account for the travel; those who stayed within the city were given the option of working, but it was not required. The only reason he had come in was that, as he took his leave the day before, he saw how much work had piled up from Havoc's, Breda's, and Falman's absences. The Lieutenant had tried to keep up, but Kain noticed the hollow look in her eyes last night. She was working like a machine, and she needed help, even if she didn't openly ask for it.

So he sat at his desk, a stack of papers to his left side, the only noise coming from the scribbling of his pen. He looked up as Lieutenant Hawkeye returned from the break room with three cups of coffee, doing her best not to spill them as she fumbled with the handle. Normally, she would hand Kain his cup before setting her own on her desk and delivering the last cup to the colonel. Today, however, she placed all three cups on the top of a filing cabinet and did something Kain had never seen her do before; she twisted the deadbolt on the oak doors to the office. She said nothing about it as she picked up the coffee once more, delivering Kain's cup with a small smile, yet without a word.

Kain looked down at his cup, the coffee made just the way he liked it despite never telling the Lieutenant how he took his coffee. As he looked back up, he realized that the lieutenant was headed toward Mustang's office, as usual. However, he noted that she chose to walk the perimeter of the room rather than down the center aisle. He didn't think it was too strange, seeing as she had placed the coffees off to the side. What surprised him, however, was the fact that the door to the colonel's office was wide open. Normally Mustang enjoyed the privacy of his solitary office; when she left, the Lieutenant made no move to shut the door on her way out.

She moved the way she had come, down the wall of the room. As she sat down at her desk, she rotated her chair at an angle, her back facing the open door of the colonel's office. She faced the locked door, positioned so that she could see the entire room from where she sat. Every so often, she would set down her pen and slip her right hand under the left shoulder of her jacket and rub her shoulder, a slight frown on her lips. She opened her desk drawer and removed a pill case, placing two in her mouth and downing them with a sip from her cup. Kain didn't even know that she took medication.

If there was the slightest change in rhythm or any sort of unexpected noise, the lieutenant would sit up a little straighter and glance around the room, never lifting her head from its lowered position. Kain would have missed it if he hadn't been blatantly watching her. What was even more unusual was that she didn't say anything to him about it. As quiet as she always was, she maintained a strong presence within any space she inhabited; today, however, one could almost forget that she was there. Every once in a long while, she would take a sharp inhale through clenched teeth, her hand reaching up to touch her shoulder once more. As Kain continued to observe, he noted that she would fidget on occasion in her seat. It wasn't until the second time she did it that Kain realized she was acting out of sort; she was a trained sniper. He had seen her hold a stationary position for longer than he thought any human could.

It was this realization that spurred Kain into action. He rose from his seat with the intent to file away some of the documents he had finished. He could tell that the lieutenant was listening to his every move, as her head turned ever so slightly in the direction he was headed. Yet she never looked up at him. She became a little more rigid in her seat as the file cabinet opened and shut with the grinding of metal tracks that hadn't been cared for since they were new. Sensing her tension, Kain made the decision that he should see if he could help her. He approached her from behind, laying a hand on her shoulder and asking "Lieutenant, are you okay?"

Kain was taken aback when, at his touch, the lieutenant spun around so quickly that a less-agile person would have fallen out of their chair. It was only there for a fraction of a second, but what Kain saw in her eyes was pure, animalistic fear. Every muscle in her body had tensed. Hawkeye, who always chose fight in a fight-or-flight situation, was undeniably prepared to run as fast as her legs could take her. Once her gaze returned to normal, she let out a large breath, shaking Kain's hand off of her shoulder. "I'm fine, Sergeant Fuery. Thank you for asking."

More than a little bit insulted at such a blatant lie, Kain let his hand fall back to his side. He frowned as he walked back over to his desk. Before he could sit down, he heard his name called.

"Fuery, a word?" Mustang inquired without really asking as he stood in the doorway to his office. His body language was slightly tense, as though anxious, but there was no sign of reprimand or anger that Kain could read. Obliging, he walked into the colonel's office. He reached for the door, yet was stopped abruptly when Mustang ordered "Leave it."

Mustang took a seat behind his desk, motioning to the chairs arranged in front for Kain to do the same. "You're not in trouble, Sergeant," the colonel reassured him, noticing his uncertainty. Before the bespectacled man could say anything, Mustang began, "I appreciate your gesture, and she does, too." There was no need to use names. "Today is a hard day for her. I am not at liberty to say why; that is hers to tell and hers alone. But having friends is very important to her right now."

Kain looked at his superior officer, puzzled by everything that had transpired in the last five minutes. "What can you tell me then, sir? I feel like I really upset her. That was the last thing I wanted to do."

"I know," Mustang gave the young man a rare, genuine smile that only lifted the corners of his mouth for a second. "You're a good man, Fuery. Never doubt that." He laced his fingers together and placed his elbows on his desk. "I'm sure you've heard about the soldiers who came back from Ishval, those with what was called 'psychosis' or 'nervous disorders.'"

Kain nodded before Mustang continued. "The studies done on these soldiers after the war showed that their reactions stemmed from a trauma or a series of traumatic events. Their nervosa pertained to this event or events of the same nature."

"So that's why the lieutenant is acting strangely?" Kain asked, trying to puzzle through what he was being told.

"Let me finish," Mustang asked kindly before continuing. "It's no secret that the lieutenant and I suffer from this particular disorder from things we had done during that war. I know you all have wondered about why I shoot up from my desk in the middle of a nap or why certain sounds make the lieutenant reach for her gun. Out there, everything was about self-preservation. It was kill or be killed."

Mustang heaved a large sigh, shaking his head. "Unfortunately, a rebellion is not the only kind of war. I have known Hawkeye for a very long time, Sergeant. She's been through more wars than anyone should ever have to. She has gained strength, self-reliance, and trust in her instincts as a result. As much as I wish that things would have never happened to her, they are a part of what makes her strong. She is nothing if not a survivor."

Kain had never heard the colonel talk about Hawkeye in this way before. It was almost as though Mustang was seeking solace in him, some kind of understanding, almost as if saying the words was enough to lighten his personal burden. Mustang's brow furrowed as he continued, and Kain could hear his refusal to let anger slip into his voice. "Today marks the anniversary of a very painful event for the lieutenant, both physically and mentally. If you've noticed her unrest, it is because she can still feel the pain from old wounds, despite their being long-since healed. She's hypervigilant in this state, aware of everyone and everything almost to the point that she makes herself sick."

Before continuing, Mustang assured his subordinate, "There is no way you could have known this. When you approached her from behind, she was aware of your presence. When you touched her, however, you violated the thin amount of space she keeps around herself on days like today. Her immediate vicinity, in her mind, was no longer safe. She registered you as a threat, but only for a moment."

"But if she thought I was a threat, why didn't she pull her gun on me?" Kain asked, wanting to know the answer out of concern rather than incredulity. "The way she looked at me… You would've thought that I was about to slit her throat or something."

Mustang frowned, his eyes taking on a look that Kain had a hard time identifying. "Lieutenant Hawkeye may seem like a machine at work, like someone who can get anything done when it needs to be and pull our asses out of any situation. Sometimes people forget that she is a human being, too. She is capable of fear and courage, love and hate, anxiety and confidence just like anyone else. Suffice it to say that, when she was much younger, she was betrayed by a person she thought she could trust. There wasn't anyone there to protect her." The colonel's voice hitched almost imperceptibly with this last statement, and Kain couldn't help but wonder if he was the one who should have been there for her.

As Kain mulled over this thought, he mustered up all of his courage and asked in a meek voice, "Is that why the door to your office is open, sir?"

Mustang gave a soft, brief smile as his eyes left the sergeant in front of him and focused on the woman in the other room. "It lets the both of us feel a bit better. Every year, I tell her to take the day off. She always refuses." As he looked back at Kain, his face became serious once more. "I trust that you won't be telling anyone about this conversation. While I have only told you what I know she would be comfortable with you knowing, this isn't something that she needs spread around the office. She trusts you, Sergeant. Coming from her, that's something rare. Never do anything to betray that trust, for her sake as well as your own." The words weren't a threat. They were spoken as matter-of-factly as if the colonel had just said that the sky was blue.

"I won't, sir. You have my word." Kain spoke these words as if they were an oath to God himself, wholeheartedly intending to keep what had been said between them to himself. He knew that the colonel would tell the lieutenant what had been said, and he would speak with her if she approached him first. Other than to Hawkeye or to Mustang, not a word about this day would ever leave his lips. He stood, exiting the office and leaving the door open. His footsteps slowed as he approached the lieutenant's desk, from the front this time. He gave a small cough, waiting for the lieutenant to look up at him before speaking up.

"Would you like a cup of tea, Lieutenant? I was on my way to the breakroom to make myself a cup. Apparently the Führer ordered some sort of lavender tea from Xing and his secretary added an extra zero to the order amount." Kain smiled despite himself at this, imagining what the result was when the bill had come in. "They are trying to get rid of it, so they added it to the breakroom."

Kain was surprised to see the Lieutenant sitting upright, a smile on her lips that extended to her eyes. That sight alone was rare enough on any day. "That would be lovely, Sergeant. Thank you."

The young man grinned, thrilled that this small act had such a positive effect on his superior officer. "I'll be right back, then. I'll bring you back some honey and a spoon, okay?" As he unlocked the door and left the office, he realized that the locked hadn't clicked back into place behind him.


End file.
